


Sick Day

by DayenuRose



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Flu, Married Couple, romy - Freeform, sick day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayenuRose/pseuds/DayenuRose
Summary: When Remy catches the flu, he refuses to be sick. Rogue refuses to allow him to not take care of himself.





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a sketch done by my friend angel-gidget. She wanted drawing practice and I wanted practice writing shorter pieces. This was the result. Enjoy! 
> 
> Find angel-gidget's lovely artwork that inspired this story [here](https://angel-gidget.tumblr.com/post/188130492377/rogue-and-remy-for-dayenurose-pro-tip-if-youve) !

“Remy Etienne LeBeau, what are ya doing out of bed?” Rogue stood in the doorway of the dining room with one hand on her hip and a stern scowl on her face.  
  
Despite the pain thrumming at his temples and the general aches that laced his body, Remy managed to quirk his lips in a half-hearted attempt at a salacious grin. He loved it when she took charge. Unfortunately, at this moment he wasn’t up to showing just how much he wanted her.  
  
“We talked ‘bout this last night.” She came up behind him, draped her arms around him, and pressed a kiss against his clammy temple. “Ya’re burnin’ up, swamp rat.”  
  
He shook his head and pushed the scrambled eggs around his plate with the corner of his dry toast. His stomach turned at the thought of eating, but…if he wanted to prove to Rogue that he was well enough to go on with his day…he needed to try to eat something. He refused to be sick. “I’m fine.”  
  
The minuscule bite of the toast was apparently more than his stomach could handle. With a hand over his mouth he bolted from the chair, dashed pass his wife and made for the bathroom. Rogue’s hand slipped from his shoulder and she followed after him for a few steps before diverting her path to elsewhere in the apartment. Concern was etched on her face. Though he didn’t notice it in anything more than a glimpse of a fleeting thought. This might possibly be the first time she’d seen him truly sick as opposed to simply injured.  
  
As Remy made his way out of the bathroom, stomach empty and mouth rinsed, he found his wife back in her pajamas, lounging on their bed, and placing her phone on the nightstand. She patted his side of the bed in a welcoming invite. All he could do was moan and curl up under the blankets. There was no point in fighting the inevitable.  
  
“Ah called Kitty. Told her we aren’ comin’ in today.” Rogue rearranged the covers over him, tucking the blanket tight around his shivering shoulders. Once he was tucked in, she kissed his forehead as she smoothed his tousled hair. Her soothing caress was featherlight and ice cold against his skin. And not only did it feel absolutely wonderful, it was the exact thing he wanted, though he hadn’t known it a moment before. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had so attentively cared for him when he was ill. Knowing Remy was unlikely to stay in bed until sleep took him unless she stayed by his side, Rogue picked up the book she’d been attempting to read over the past fortnight and settled into the pile of pillows propped against the backboard.  
  
“What’d dey say when you told dem ’m sick?” If his stomach wasn’t already roiling, it would be now. They couldn’t know how crummy he felt. He had to pretend that everything was normal. If the others thought he was really sick, they were certain to insist he see the doctor. The sweat beaded on his brow intensified as he tried to tamp down all the old insecurities. It didn’t matter how many times he was told his anxiety about doctors and hospitals was irrational, he couldn’t help it. Especially when his defenses were low and he wasn’t feeling well. He’d spent too many years avoiding any sort of official attention—doctors included—and later, well, his experience with anything medical wasn’t exactly positive…  
  
In the back of his brain, doctors meant contacting the authorities and authorities meant attracting official notice. A red eyed boy living on the streets was hard to forget. And no matter how well intentioned the doctors and officials were, he couldn’t deny one of the earliest lessons he learned as an abandoned child with an appearance that earned him the moniker _Le Diable Blanc_ before he even knew what that meant—_trust nobody._ People will let you down. If you don’t put your trust in them, the inevitable betrayal will hurt less. Or, at least, that was how it was supposed to work.  
  
He’d forgotten that lesson for a time when the LeBeaus and the Thieve’s Guild had taken him in. It had seemed like a fairytale come true. After a few years under their protection, he dared think he had found home and safety, and maybe even people he could trust. A place he could belong. The fairytale had lasted until his eighteenth birthday. After that, trust never again came that easy.  
  
Until Rogue. Until he found someone he wanted to trust, someone who was worth the risk. Rogue had proven the exception to the rule. Although, even then, the journey had been arduous. And sometimes, the long ingrained fears still won out.  
  
Remy shivered and clutched at the covers. Curling deeper into the heap of blankets piled over him, he closed his eyes and tried to will away the unwanted memories. He was uncertain if the chill was rooted in the fever or if it was due to the old vulnerabilities that sickness always exposed.  
  
“Rest, sugah. Ah didn’ tell them ya’re sick. Just that we needed the day off. If Kitty’s got a problem with that, she can fight me. Today, Ah’m gonna take care of ya. And we’ll see how ya’re feelin’ tomorrow.” She gripped his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “From your symptoms, it appears ya got the stomach bug that’s goin’ ‘round the school. Doesn’ look like ya caught a bad case, so let’s give your body a few days to fight this thing off. If ya can kick the bug on your own, don’ see why we need to take ya to the doctor. Which, is why we’re takin’ the day off. ‘Kay?”  
  
“T’anks, mon coeur,” he rasped around a yawn. A wane smile played on his lips as he eyelids grew heavy.  
  
“Of course. Ah know how ya feel…” Rogue leaned her head against the pillows and closed her eyes. Even in his half-drowsy state, he recognized the pattern of her breathing as she wrestled for control and won. He knew she experienced his childhood traumas, unspoken fears and broken trusts as if she’d lived them herself. It wasn’t fair, though the part that always amazed him was that she never held it against him. He wished the echoes of his memories which still lingered in her psyche wouldn’t cause her as much pain as they did him.  
  
Rogue released a long, even breath, then opened her eyes. “Go to sleep, Remy, Ah’m right here. Ah’ve got ya.”  
  
Her presence was all the reassurance that he needed to finally give in and relax. Her fingers idly ran through his hair in a comforting pattern as she turned to her bookmarked page. Settling into the bed, he closed his eyes and pressed his blanket covered back against her hip. Before she turned the page, Remy had drifted into a peaceful sleep.  
  



End file.
